


The one where Fenton gets called out

by bamboozledeagle



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Fenton's late for a very important date, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamboozledeagle/pseuds/bamboozledeagle
Summary: Donald starts to suspect something is up when Fenton is once again late for their date.





	The one where Fenton gets called out

**Author's Note:**

> @cirilee's comic on Tumblr inspired this little fic, it's super cute you should check it out!

The restaurant is nice. 

The dark of the night filters in through the large windows at the front adding to the elegant lighting of the building. The candle on his table flickers as a breeze dances in from the entrance, another couple leaving at the late hour. The restaurant is silent with only a few occupants left at their respective seats, a contrast to the somewhat noisy time at which he arrived. Piano music plays overhead from a hidden speaker and his sigh joins the soft tones.

Donald looks at his watch again. 

10:44 p.m.

He’s been here since 9:38 and he wants to snort at the thought. He’d been convinced that he was late, sure that Fenton would have been waiting for him at their table when he arrived. Donald had made the reservations for 9:30 and his car had, predictably, broken down. 

He missed his old 313.

His old, reliable 313 who had gotten him through easy and hard times alike. It carried his newborn nephews home for the first time after Della had given birth, the egg had been surrounded in pillows and Della had giggled at his worried antics. It had even carried him to the hospital multiple times after some rough nights of being the Duck Avenger. Those years had been the hardest and loneliest of his life, and they had only ended after his nephews had hatched.

He remembered the late nights and long days, the pain of hiding broken ribs and yellow bruises, all those missed dates with daisy...she would have left long before now or she would have run into Gladstone. The longest she’d waited for him would be…hmm…15…30 minutes? That time with the Evronians, though, she’d hardly waited for the doors to open before Gladstone was on her arm. 

He couldn’t fault her for that. It had been better that way, she deserved better and he had needed the realization that he simply couldn’t give her his time. 

Time that he had to split between the Evronians, the time police, and the usual thugs.

Speaking of time…now that he thought about it, Fenton had been late to nearly all their dates with a new injury every time. He tried to hide it, but Donald knew the signs. It was odd, unless…there was only one hero in Duckburg at the moment and the kids seemed awfully familiar with Gizmoduck…

Donald pulled his phone out and brought up his search app. 

“Sir?” He looks up at his waiter, a monkey girl probably still in highschool. She’s got a slice of cake in her hands, “On the house.”

She sets it down and leaves without another word. The gesture makes him smile. He’d been planning to tip her well for letting him sit at the table for so long when he must look like he’s been stood up. None of the money he brought was put to use anyway, he could give her an extra 5 for the cake. It no doubt came out of her own meager pay.

He takes a bite of the cake (it could use a little less sugar, maybe an extra egg) and goes back to the news reports. He flicks through a couple and compares the dates and timing. He comes across a photo of Gizmoduck in one article. He hasn’t given the hero more than a glance before, but now he looks a bit harder. 

Thirteen minutes later, screaming cuts through the graceful atmosphere and Fenton comes bursting through the front doors wheezing his name. He’s wearing his usual shirt and tie, and there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They’re blue Irises, his favorite, and they almost distract him from the scratches on his boyfriend’s face. 

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late…” Fenton says sheepishly, not looking at Donald, “but I did get you flowers!”

The latino gives a shy grin, clearly nervous that Donald is going to react badly but hoping the flowers will help mend whatever wound he’s caused by being nearly an hour and a half late to their date. 

“…” Donald crosses his arms and studies Fenton with narrowed eyes. The duck is favoring his right leg, shifting carefully and trying to hide his flinches. The scratches on his face are all below his eyes and are clustered together as if he fell into a bush face-first. The report said Gizmoduck had done just that after being tossed aside by a large magnet. 

“Don? I’m sorry, I know I’m late, I just thought since you were still here I might have a chance to fix this, but I understand if you don’t-“ Fenton shrinks in on himself and lowers the flowers. He has yet to take a seat, Donald suspects, because of the injury to his leg.

“The restaurant closes in three minutes.” He states and gets up, setting a twenty down on the table.

“Let’s go to the houseboat and order pizza.” Donald takes the flowers and grabs Fenton’s hand. He wants to ask right here in the restaurant if he’s Gizmoduck, but there are still people around. It wouldn’t be safe.

“Really?” Fenton lights up and Donald nearly laughs at the puppy-like behavior.

“Really.” He plants a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

They walk home, slowly for Fenton’s sake. 

“Where’s your car?” Fenton asks, looking around

“It broke down. Where’s yours?” Donald asks slyly

“Er-I-Uh-“ Fenton fumbles.

“Walking then?” Donald smiles at him. Fenton sputters for some reason and nods, face a little red.

It’s a long walk, but they make it back to Uncle Scrooge’s mansion. Fenton sinks into the couch the minute they walk through the door to the houseboat. He looks exhausted.

“Hey Fenton?” He calls, pulling out a vase for the flowers before digging out pizza menus from various delivery places around the city.

“Yes?”

“You’re Gizmoduck aren’t you?” He says more than he asks.

“Uh-huh.” Fenton replies tiredly.

Donald pauses for a moment and watches the duck shoot up like a rocket after he realizes what he’s said, “No! I mean – how’d you know?!”

“It’s obvious. Your wounds, the timing, the kids talking about being friends with Gizmoduck, and besides I’d recognize that beak anywhere.” Donald smirks.

Fenton goes beet red.

“What do you want on your pizza?”

“You’re not…upset?” Fenton anxiously plays with his tie.

“No, Fenton. Though I wish you’d have called me and rescheduled, I can’t believe you still came to our date with a busted leg.” Donald comes over with the menu and Fenton leans into his side.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

It’s not as nice as the restaurant, but Fenton is here now and that’s all that matters to Donald.


End file.
